


Thump

by saraid



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A three word challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thump

"They say everyone has a Doppelganger somewhere," Obi-Wan gasped, twisting to look around the trunk of the tree they hid behind.

"They also say Lindbergh cheese is delicious!" Qui-Gon retorted, his 'saber flashing out in the dark, calling insects to it.

A roar sounded, too close this time. Resisting the urge to flinch, Obi-Wan scrunched closer to his master, trying to stay out of sight.

Qui-Gon's foot slipped as he did -- Obi-Wan grabbed at him, hands digging into the wet robes.

"Sorry I lost my 'saber," he mumbled, risking a moment to rub his face on his lover's back. The sound of Qui-Gon's 'saber was like electric love in the heavy air. "And he didn’t look that much like you."

"Enough to get us damned as demons." His master was disgruntled and annoyed. Being thrown out of negotiations and then kicked out of the city with miles of forest between them and their transport; it did nothing for his mood.

"I’ll make it up to you."

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's growl was exciting, but even it faded when compared to the roar of the predator that stalked them.

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's growl was exciting, but even it faded when compared to the roar of the predator that stalked them.

"Yes, yes, I know." Instead of moving away, Obi-Wan held him tighter. "You did say it hunts by sight -- it can't track us if it can't see us."

"That was supposition only, Padawan. I could be wrong."

"Not likely," Obi-Wan snorted. Rising carefully to his tiptoes, he nuzzled into the lank hair until he found the tiny patch of akin, the only part not covered.

His master stilled. The whine of the saber trailed off to silence.

"Mmm." Though they were both wet and muddy, Obi-Wan didn't hesitate to drag his tongue over that spot. The air was overly warm, it clung to them. His tongue almost stuck, he had to suck it free.

Not that he minded.

Qui-Gon made soft sound. It was loud in this quiet forest.  
"I'll guess we'll see if you're right," Obi-Wan whispered, as he slid to his knees. This was not the time or place for disrobing, so he grinned, and ducked beneath Qui-Gon's robes, scooting into the space between his legs, which spread to accommodate him.

The mud sucked at him, but he really couldn't get any wetter or dirtier than he already was.

His hands moved surely, unlacing the front of Qui-Gon's trous. There was nothing under them, a fact he'd learned early.

A roar broke the quiet and he froze, a shiver running down his back.

This was crazy. Unsafe and insane, and Qui-Gon was going to let him do it?! It hadn't been that long since they made love.

Big hands pressed against his shoulders, their touch muffled by the layers of fabric over him. The cool weight of the saber handle was hard against his neck.

He held his breath, turning his head and pressing his cheek to the hot flesh so close. It hardened at his touch; he inhaled deeply. His lover's scent was richer here, heavier with musk and heat.

The air was so heavy, the space so small; if he were claustrophobic this would be impossible.

If he were claustrophobic he wouldn't Padawan to the Jedi's greatest field agent.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice was so low it rumbled, more felt than heard.

Unwilling to answer and break the silence, the younger man turned his head again, slowly. His three-day beard caught and pulled gently on tight-curled hair.

A hand slid up his back, callouses felt even through wet robes, to lay on his head. Gentle pressure, nothing harsh. Love between them was always thus.

Taking the hint, Obi-Wan shifted minutely, spreading his knees for balance and wrapping his arms around the long legs beside him, locking his elbows behind them.

He tipped his head back to catch the tip of his master's cock, covering it with his lips and tasting.

The cheese had added a distinctly strange flavor, but it wasn't exactly unpleasant.

Somehow smoky...it suited this world, and, oddly, this night.

He hummed slightly and felt the pressure on his head increase. The 'saber lent him leverage; should he slip, he would be caught.

His own trousers were tight; he lifted himself, getting the angle right, and took Qui-Gon in.

A grunt above him; short and hard.

Then the silence again.

Had the carnivore that tracked them given up?

They weren't its usual prey.

A gentle squeeze brought him back to what he was doing. In his head he could hear Qui-Gon's soft chuckle. He often commented that it took an orgasm to Make Obi-Wan's mind stop for any length of time.

And they weren't quite there yet, though his body as urging him toward it.

With tongue and careful teeth, he worked Qui-Gon until the big man was shuddering, breath coming fast. His own cock strained against the lacings, almost painful in its hardness. He wanted to lose them, but didn't dare. Qui-Gon was hard and heavy, pulsing silk in his mouth. Too close to climax already.

"ROARRRR!"

Obi-Wan stopped as if he'd been bitten.

He held his breath.

He felt Qui-Gon quivering. His body was so tight it sang with it.

Footsteps padded...thump, thump, thump.

Through the mud, not ten feet from them.

Twenty seconds more and they would not have been able to stop. Even the greatest Jedi lost control sometimes. Foolish, Obi-Wan thought, even his mind quiet now.

What had he been thinking?

Only that it would add spice to the occasion. Qui-Gon could be the very epitome of the reserved Jedi Master, and his favorite Padawan could not always ignore the desire to shake that calm.

The fact that Qui-Gon let him do these things -- well, it was just proof of how dearly he was loved.

Thump, thump, thump, thump... how many feet did this thing have?

He needed to breath and dared not. Qui-Gon's quivering had faded to stiff alertness; nut his cock was still hard in Obi-Wan's mouth.

The world greyed at the edges. The saber at his back became necessary support. He leaned on it, moving scarcely an inch, and was rewarded with the firmness of his lover's strength.

Silently there, to hold him up.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump... The padding did not pause as it passed them, though they were less than a foot away now. Obi-Wan caught a whiff of rank meat, raw blood. His nose wrinkled; he swallowed to keep from choking.  
Qui-Gon filled his mouth so completely.

The steps faded away. Obi-Wan was almost dizzy from the lack of air.

Qui-Gon's hand on his head moved, forming a word with his fingers.

Silent battle-language, though most did not learn it by feel as well as sight. Qui-Gon had insisted.

Good? The fingers asked.

Sucking air through his nostrils as quickly as he dared, Obi-Wan still felt like he was drowning. With a hard movement, he yanked himself up and swallowed again, taking the cock as far as he could and sucking hungrily.

Qui-Gon moaned, the sound cut off raggedly, and thrust just once. Then he was coming, coming into Obi-Wan's mouth, the smoky flavor nectar to a wanton lover.

He was pulled up and crushed before he'd finished swallowing.

Hot sticky dripped on his chin, and was licked eagerly.

An arm around his back, the saber handle digging under his ribs, and a hand -- blessed hand -- on his trousers, cupping, rubbing fiercely.

He leaned forward and filled his mouth again, this time with sodden wool, and came to his master's skilled touch.

They stood, still, gasping. Obi-Wan tried to smother the noise he was making in Qui-Gon's robes, but he needed the air too badly.

"Perhaps some practice in breath control?" his master whispered, his own voice rough.

His head was taken in one hand, cradled by long, rough fingers, and his mouth thoroughly cleaned of ever last taste of Qui-Gon's seed.

He breathed in the seconds between kisses, letting his master take his weight, hold him up.

"I was foolish," he whispered when breath returned to him. "I took too big a chance, Master."

"Never, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon kissed him again, and again. His breath was hot, hotter than the air around them. "I did not stop you."

"You never have."

"No," a low chuckle, and he was set on his feet. His trousers clung unpleasantly to his groin, but it wasn’t much different than before. Still wet and muddy and sticky, only now it was a well-earned sensation. "I never have."

Qui-Gon leaned back against the tree. Obi-Wan wanted to light his saber and look upon him with that light, but that wasn't a risk worth taking. Instead, he leaned in against him and sighed as an arm came around him.

They stood for a time, enjoying the feeling of well-being the contact created.

"We'd better go," Qui-Gon said regretfully. He pulled away slowly, until they were a foot apart. Obi-Wan could still feel him, in his mouth. In his head and heart.

"How much further do you think it is, Master?" he asked. They fell into step again, both alert for the return on their stalker.  
They'd been walking long enough that he trusted there would be nothing more than mud and more mud, occasionally broken by a twig or leaf. There didn't seem to be much alive in this forest, but he knew that was misleading.

And suddenly, he knew why the creature had stopped so close to them. His foot came down in it and the smell flooded around them, thick and rotten and just really disgusting.

"Padawan?!" Startled, Qui-Gon backed away from him, his 'saber up and on before the words left his mouth.

"Sith Hells!" Obi-Wan cursed and hopped on one foot, trying to shake loose the refuse that now coated the other.

"Oh Force, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice was still quiet, but filled with amusement. He was fighting to not laugh, Obi-Wan could just hear it.

"Master!" Indignation filled him.

"I'm sorry, Padawan, I -"

"These are the zori you gave me!"

"I'll get you another pair - come on, take them off before we suffocate." A hand on his shoulder for balance again, and he could see the crinkles around Qui-Gon's eyes, could see the laughter in them.

It didn't help.

"Don't talk to me about suffocating..." he grumbled, pulling free first one show and then the other, hopping like a loon to do so.

"Next time it's my turn," Qui-Gon promised, when the offending items were as far as they could be thrown.

"I'm holding you to that!"

Their noise must have attracted their former stalker, because a roar sounded out, not as far away as they'd like.

Both Jedi burst into laughter and took off at a run. They were right back where they'd started; running, dirty, wet -

\- and together.

It made all the rest of it worthwhile.

**Author's Note:**

> The three words were doppelganger, zori, and cheese.


End file.
